


Das Feuer hält uns warm

by Soronya



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Bickering, Bonfires, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hiddensee, M/M, Nostalgia, Vacation, beach, sharing memories, talking about Feeling B era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soronya/pseuds/Soronya
Summary: Paul and Richard spend a few days off on Hiddensee. Paul remembers how it used to be when he played concerts with Feeling B on this island.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35
Collections: Rammstein - Bonfire - May Prompt





	Das Feuer hält uns warm

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a new fic! This is for the Rammstein+ server on discord and our monthly writing challenge we now host. The prompt for May had been "bonfire".
> 
> As always, I need to thank my wonderful beta [Milrekki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milrekki) for improving this fic a lot and for always having my back. I love you, my dear ♥
> 
> The idea to this fanfic came while I read "Mix mir einen Drink" - the book in which Flake and Paul (and others) talk about the Feeling B time. I tried to keep this fic as accurate as possible and most stories Paul talks about did really happen. Further names of people and places are explained in the endnotes!
> 
> Now have fun reading this little fluffy story!

The soft noise of the waves breaking at the shore was soothing and Richard stared out at the sea, looking at the light of the lighthouse flashing up every now and then at the other end of the horizon. It had been a wonderful idea to come here for a few days, to escape the urban jungle and to spend some time alone with Paul.

Sadly, the time had flown by and now it was already their last evening at this wonderful island Paul had used to visit almost every weekend when he had been younger. It had been Richard’s idea to spend a week together on Hiddensee, wanting to get to know more about his boyfriend’s past. Richard had feared Paul would decline, wouldn’t have wanted him to invade his precious memories with Flake and Aljoscha. But, surprisingly, he had been thrilled and had booked a vacation for both of them almost immediately.

Now, they were sitting in front of a bonfire which they had lit up on a secluded part of the beach and enjoyed the silence together. They had drunk a few beers and Richard felt comfortably tipsy, the alcohol running through his veins giving him a warm sensation. The sun had long set and the blue hour was almost over, revealing the silver stars on the dark canopy. Richard loved the peace and silence of the moment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the damp and salty air.

Paul sat beside Richard, a branch in his hand, playing with the charred pieces of the firewood. His posture and face were relaxed and he seemed to be at ease with everything, clearly enjoying himself. Richard could stare at him forever like this, his handsome face highlighted by the golden light of the fire. His features were soft, his laugh lines barely visible and he looked younger than usual.

“What?” Paul suddenly asked, turning his head towards him with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

“Mh?” Richard hummed, having been lost in his own thoughts.

“You’ve been staring,” Paul pointed out to him, a soft smile now playing around his lips, while his crow feet immediately became more prominent.

Richard smiled back. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly and reached out to run his fingers over Paul’s tattoo on his upper arm. “I could look at you for hours and never get tired of it.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Paul answered affectionately, taking Richard’s hand into his and leading it to his lips to give it a soft kiss. Richard skidded closer to him, a broad smile on his face, and leaned his shoulder against Paul’s.

“… and apparently, you’re ice cold, too,” Paul mumbled as their skin touched. “C’me here.”

He hugged Richard from behind, pulling him into his arms and holding him close. Before Richard was able to protest, Paul put one leg on each side of him and wrapped a blanket around their shoulders. He hummed happily and peppered Richard’s nape with soft kisses, his stubble tickling the delicate skin.

“Much better now,” Richard agreed, although he hadn’t felt like he was freezing. It had just become a bit chilly outside and the wind coming from the sea had freshened up, but the fire had kept his right side pleasantly warm. Now, having Paul hugging him from behind, a woollen blanket around them, he realised how cold his skin had become.

“Mh,” Paul agreed. “It was hot all day and I almost forgot that the nights here can be quite cool. When we slept here on the beach, I often woke up freezing and with a horrible hangover. All because I couldn’t find my sleeping bag before passing out – in the middle of the night, mind you, when you couldn’t see the hand in front of your eyes.”

Richard chuckled, staring into the glowing embers. He could totally picture Paul, the young Paul, with his blond hair in a ponytail and freckles all over his body from the constant sun on his skin, coming back to their camp after a long night of partying. It must have been a good time for Paul and Flake. In any case, Flake often told how much he had enjoyed their days on Hiddensee, playing concerts and partying together with Aljoscha. He said it had been fantastic, although not always that easy.

“Did you go on another hunt for your sleeping bag, then?” Richard inquired while searching his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He pushed his hands out from below the blanket and lit one, inhaling the smoke deeply, before it was snatched from his hand by perky fingers. Paul took a drag, a challenging smirk on his lips. Then, he handed it back to Richard and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Sometimes. Depended on how drunk I still was. Sometimes I was lucky and found myself lying directly beside it. On other, uh, occasions, I simply laid down close to Flake or Aljoscha. They did not always appreciate it,” Paul told him, his soft, low voice rumbling through Richard’s body. 

He definitely was smiling affectionately while talking about his memories, but Richard couldn’t help himself. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. The mental image of Paul cuddling with other men wasn’t something he liked, even though it had probably only been platonic. It shouldn’t bother him, really, and maybe it wasn’t just the knowledge of Paul being very close with someone else, but also that his own life had been full of shit in the eighties. He took a deep breath, nipping his envy in the bud, and leaned his head against Paul’s.

“Please, tell me more about that time,” Richard requested softly, peacefully smoking his cigarette.

“Mhh,” Paul mused, running his hand over Richard’s forearm absentmindedly. “We never slept in hotels or flats. It seemed way too expensive and Aljoscha didn’t want to spend money on it. Plus, it was so snobbish and uncool. We wanted to be rebellious and the opposite of prissy. Also, I don’t think any of us would have found our way back to the housing. Especially not in the condition we were in after a concert. We simply took blankets and sleeping bags with us and hoped it wouldn’t rain.”

“What did you do when it did?”

Paul snorted happily as he remembered. “Usually, we were so wasted we didn’t even care. Schobert, he did – oh, maybe I should tell you who he was. Schobert was our trucker and he often carried our stuff around, even with no cars being allowed here. He just came with us, with or without a truck. Anyway, sometimes he brought a tarp to protect our electrical gear but Flake ended up hiding under it. He was usually the one suffering the most. Because he was, and  _ is _ , so skinny,” Paul told him and huffed in amusement of the memories. “But if it rained for two or three days straight, we usually asked a waiter if we could sleep at their house. Since Aljoscha knew everyone and their dog, it was easy to find someone who gave us shelter. Sometimes they even offered us a hot soup on top.”

“You could have brought a tent, you know?” Richard suggested with a hint of irony and Paul chuckled.

“Well, Kriening once did,” he explained, already trying to suppress a laugh. Paul searched for Richard’s hand, found it, and intertwined their fingers. “He spent hours arranging that thing. We all watched in disbelief and in exhilaration. You can’t believe how proud he was when he was finally done. When we later went back to our… camp, if you will, in the middle of the night, he couldn’t relocate it in the darkness. He spent an hour screaming and shouting in rage and searching for it before he passed out. The next morning, we found him sleeping and snoring only three meters away from it, with a hedgehog sitting beside his head.”

They both started laughing and Richard had a hard time to simmer down again. The mental image of a hedgehog sitting close to a snoring man was just hilarious.

“Yeah, in retrospect, it’s quite funny,” Paul agreed with a chuckle, gesturing towards the half-burnt cigarette in Richard’s hand and silently asking for another drag. Richard, still giggling, handed it over to Paul, who nodded thankfully.

“But believe me,” Paul added, “you didn’t want to be close to Kriening whenever he was angry. And boy, he was so angry that night. I am still wondering how he managed to not wake up the entire island with his yelling.”

“Reminds me of someone,” Richard teased.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Paul answered playfully, carefully biting into the soft skin on Richard’s shoulder. “Seems like I need to teach you some manners!”

“Ow!” Richard exclaimed and laughed, raising his arms in defeat. “Please, have mercy!”

Paul kissed Richard’s shoulder conciliatorily and lingered there, his breath blowing warmly against the skin. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the waves washing onto the shore and looking at the stars in the dark sky, enjoying their closeness and the peaceful moment. 

Richard couldn’t believe his luck right now. There was nothing he would rather be doing right now, no other place he’d rather want to be, nobody else he’d rather share this moment with. How lucky he was to have Paul, how gorgeous it was they had gotten together a few years ago. It was amazing that the rest of their bandmates had expressed their support, had congratulated them and had told them they’d always have their backs.

Richard sighed contentedly. “Thanks for… I don’t even know. Everything, I guess. For taking me here. Sharing this with me.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Paul asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“Well – those are your memories. I am a stranger. Invading them. Therefore, I don’t belong. I am–”

“An idiot is what you are, Richard,” Paul mocked him and Richard felt soft lips on his neck, kissing his delicate skin. “But you know what? You’re my idiot. You belong to me and I enjoy sharing those stories with you, taking you here, showing you everything. And I very much love that you, apparently, seem to appreciate it.”

“I do,” Richard agreed softly and nodded. 

“I am glad. Because here’s another story that just came to my mind,” Paul said happily. “You were only allowed to ferry to Hiddensee with a special permit, but since Aljoscha knew so many people and his parents had quite some houses on this island, we usually could come here without further trouble. Only problem was, we didn’t have those bloody permits. So whenever the paunchy island-cop approached with his  _ Schwalbe _ , we had to hide in the bushes. Which sometimes must have looked funny, because all our instruments were just lying in the sand, often without anyone in near sight.”

“Did they ever catch you?” Richard asked, stubbing out his cigarette and trying to cuddle closer to Paul, who tightened the embrace gladly.

“No, thank God, they didn’t,” Paul exclaimed. “Especially not during our nightly searches for our camp. We stumbled through the woods, totally drunk, and if some cops had seen us, they could have set us up for wanting to flee the republic.”

“Shit, yeah. This must have been a common place to try to flee to Denmark since you can see the island, I can imagine that,” Richard agreed thoughtfully.

“It was, but we really didn’t want to do that. We were happy here. To be honest, the summers here on Hiddensee were the best ones I had back then. This island meant so much freedom for us – especially for me and Flake,” Paul said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “And… well, and once it was clear we would never give a concert here, like, ever again, it really did make me feel sad. You know, it wasn’t that I desperately wanted to keep  _ Feeling B _ alive, it was more that… Well, I knew something was about to be over. Forever.”

Richard nodded affirmatively and searched for Paul’s hands under the blanket. He took them into his own, squeezing them in an affectionate manner and petted over the back of them while carefully pondering his next words. He was anxious Paul would decline, would find his idea absurd, would tell him to back off. Although he rationally knew it wouldn’t be the case, he still wasn’t sure how to express himself.

“You know…” he said after a moment and expelled his breath nervously, “I don’t know, but maybe, well. I really don’t wanna intrude, but, if you want, of course, we could come here more often. I genuinely like it here and, you know, if you didn’t mind, we totally could–”

“Will you shut up?” Paul interrupted him, his voice soft and fond. He freed his hand left hand out of Richard’s and put his finger under his chin, carefully turning his head. Richard followed the movement, looking over his shoulder into Paul’s warm eyes, which were framed by his laugh lines. “Richard. I’d love to come here regularly with you, together.”

“You would?” Richard said joyfully. “Well, I’d also love to, you know. And it’s so nice to hear you talking about old times, although I sometimes wished I was  _ there _ …” 

“We can always create our own memories,” Paul answered and bent his head to kiss Richard. It was an awkward angle, but Richard leaned into the kiss nonetheless, enjoying the feeling of the soft lips beneath his own, the flavour of the cigarettes’ tobacco and the bitterness of the beer mixing with Paul’s own taste.

An idea came to Richard’s mind, wild and silly and maybe a bit absurd. However, he broke the kiss and shifted his weight a bit, so he wouldn’t need to twist his head so painfully while talking to Paul.

“Then let’s start with it right now,” Richard suggested, a smile playing around his lips.

Paul raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“We do have a few blankets here, right?”

“Right.”

“Then let’s spend our last night on this island here at the beach,” Richard told him, a broad grin on his face. “Cuddle ourselves into the blankets, listen to the waves, look at the stars. Feel as if we were twenty again.”

Paul sighed, but Richard saw his lips curling into a smile. “I have a feeling I will regret it tomorrow since we are so  _ not _ twenty anymore – but, sure. I haven’t done anything like that for so long and I bet it’s for a reason.”

“I am sure you’re not going to regret it, Paulchen,” Richard grinned and winked at him, totally aiming for annoying him. “Because this is gonna be so  _ romantic _ .”

Paul groaned. “Richard, please, spare me!”

With a broad smile, Richard leaned over Paul and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, pushing them both down onto the sand. He withdrew for a second, looking Paul into his eyes, a mischievous look on his face.

“ _ Make _ me.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Hiddensee** : A small island in the Baltic Sea, next to Rügen. At the times of the GDR, It used to be a popular place to go to during vacation. On the island, there weren't and still aren't any cars allowed.  
>  **Alexander Kriening** : One of the many drummers Feeling B had. He used to be late to their rehearsals, often didn't show up to concerts and often fought with Paul.  
>  **Arnfried Schobert** : The truck driver who brought their stuff from A to B and often followed the band around even when he wasn't needed.  
>  **Schwalbe** : A brand of an old motorcycle or -roller, that was produced in the GDR.
> 
> And another quick note: Please don't ever light up bonfires on a public beach in Germany. I am pretty sure it is forbidden, because... Germany.
> 
> ...As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated and I live off them ♥


End file.
